


Whatever's Left of Me, Here

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, episode 55
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 11:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18141662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: Caleb melts away and a burst of certainty fills his mind.





	Whatever's Left of Me, Here

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hozier's As It Was
> 
> I thought about how Caleb didn't hurt Nott when he could've, and I maybe spiraled a bit

The creature whispers in Caleb’s ear, and Caleb melts away.  Was he ever Caleb? That pattering and restrained ruin, shackled by sentimentality over people who would only betray him.  Disgusting.

Never again will Bren run from who he is, from who he was meant to be- a great person with power to bend the world as he sees fit.  The taste of freedom is metallic against the back of his throat.

* * *

 

Bren raises his hand and casts fireball, a sweet feeling of release washing over him.  

This is what he was trained to do- to root out traitors, to root out those who mean him harm.  Sniveling as the pathetic Caleb Widogast, well, that never was going to last, was it? He’s the best of the best, and he is going to show it.  

(There’s another creature in this chamber; a monster; disgusting.  When he thinks about striking out at it, his brain goes fuzzy at the edges, so he turns his attention to the others.  There’s no room for weakness. He will kill them all.)

They reach out to him with their weapons and their spells, proving once and for all that they are not his friends.  Traitors deserve to die, and for Bren, this moment of triumph could not have come soon enough. He’s put away the docile, insecure remorse that he was wearing like a weight, and now, finally, he’s free once more.  

Bren brings forth the wall of fire, sealing himself off from his betrayers.  Even when they throw a wall of water at him, his resolve is such that he will not break.  He is one of the keepers of the Empire, trained to destroy traitors, able to persevere in the face of much more severe dangers than these fools.  

His parents were traitors, these “friends” were traitors.  A traitor is only a traitor, nothing else. And there are only two types of good traitors: a dead traitor and a traitor enduring torture that makes them beg for their death.

Bren’s mouth twists into a smile remembering the sly way Trent would say that.  Maybe he’ll keep one alive, so they can beg him for their death.

(He was alone with it, the monster.  It spoke to him, things that would have upset Caleb, when he was still that pathetic mite.  He thought of striking, of banishing it to some hellish dimension- well within his power, well within what such a monster would deserve- but he found that his hands wouldn’t move right.)

(Troublesome)

And then-

Bright pain blossoms across his chest.

Yasha standing over him with a greatsword.  

 

Yasha standing over him with a greatsword, shaving his scruffy beard with impossible care.

He looks around.

Jester, blue skin singed with black and tears streaming from red rimmed eyes.  

 

Jester always making sure they’re all alive, all healthy with her bright, optimistic care that is too much for him to bear, at times, but in the best way.  

Beau, bent over in determined pain, bright burn across her cheek.

 

Beau giving him the most awkward hug of his life; Beau and her brash, uncertain way of showing her affection; Beau taking hits so the rest of them don’t have to.  

Caduceus, looking around in frustration at ~~his~~ their injured ~~traitors~~ friends.  

 

Caduceus who welcomed them in their darkest hour and whose earnest honesty is equal parts terrifying and comforting.  

Fjord, somehow watching him with concern as Yasha slices into him.

 

Fjord, brash and bold and uncertain, maybe the hardest to pin down, but has thrown himself into this dangerous quest to help Nott despite their constant friction.  

(Nott.  Nott. He can’t see her, but he knows that she’s there.  His friend with bright eyes, quick fingers, and a big heart, who tangles flowers in his hair and makes sure he has whatever he needs and has thrown herself into danger again and again and again to keep her friends safe.  He loves her, couldn’t hurt her even when he wanted to, not like this.)

Caleb falls to his knees, nodding at Yasha.  A silent _thank you_.  His chest hurts and he doesn’t fully comprehend what’s going on, but he’s himself again.  He never imagined that would be a good thing.

A potion in his hand, a familiar claw on his back, guiding him.  Caleb wants to tell Nott to give it to someone else; he hurt the others much more than they hurt him.  But Nott cares for him in ways that are inexplicable to him, and he knows better than to argue.

* * *

 

Later (so much later) (a hundred years later, it feels like) Caleb lays on his back and stares at the ceiling of their tiny hut.  He counts the breaths, comforted by the fact that none are missing. (They were so close to some missing) (It is ten thirty six in the morning) (The day has just begun) (He's not the only one laying awake)

Caleb thinks on the cold certainty that he felt when he was under the thrall of the incubus, echoes of the past.  Then, he hadn’t been under any magical thrall.

Maybe the remorse and the conflict inside he feels isn’t so bad.  

While Caleb still has a ways to go to make amends for what he’s done, maybe… maybe who he is is better than he was, at least.

(He wonders what it meant, that he had not been able to hurt Nott.  She would have been the easiest to harm- alone, always doting on him.  She could’ve been lured from her invisibility and destroyed. And yet. Some part of him had been strong enough to say no.)

 

(He wonders what that means.)

 

(He would say it means they are family, but he has killed family before, with much less magical inducement)

  
  
  


 

(Caleb wonders if this is a sign of strength or a sign of weakness)

  


(Caleb wonders if he is family to her, too)

 

(If he will remain that way)

 

(It is now three forty seven, and Caleb falls unconscious, but it's okay)

**Author's Note:**

> I realize trying to murder your friends isn't generally something that puts you in a better mental place but like.......... What If. Also a lot of playing with format which idk.


End file.
